


Lost Buttons

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: M/M, Multiple Doctors (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Jamie was struggling to keep up with events. One moment he’d been fleeing through the halls of the space station, then he’d run slap bang into a man clad in green velvet who’d greeted him by name in the most delighted tone and then expected Jamie to know who he was.</i> Or, Jamie runs into Eight and shags him in a cupboard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Buttons

“We shouldn’t be doin’ this,” said Jamie. “We should be lookin’ for the Doctor.” He sucked in a breath, and corrected himself. “ _My_ Doctor.”

The other – the new – the Doctor drew back from Jamie’s neck, just far enough to speak, and said, “I _am_ your Doctor.”

“Well, aye, but –” The Doctor’s lips found his pulse-point and his breath caught in his throat. “But – och, you know what I mean.” His head was spinning, dizzy and lusty. He was struggling to keep up with events.

One moment he’d been fleeing through the halls of Space Station Alpha, praying he’d lost the metal beasties on his tail; then he’d run slap bang into a man clad in green velvet –

“Oof! Hey, watch where you’re –”

– Who’d clasped him by the hand and greeted him by name in the most delighted tone –

“Jamie Mccrimmon! As I live and breathe!”

– and then expected Jamie to know who he was.

“Oh, come now, Jamie, you know me.”

“Och, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Come on. Look harder.”

The man had brown hair that fell curling to his shoulders, and delicate, fey features. He had an otherworldly but familiar air to him, as if he’d just stepped from the pages of a story book. But Jamie had never clapped eyes on him before.

Except – there was something, some quality about his eyes and the way he held himself that was profoundly alien, and yet – unmistakable. Oh, good God. “Doctor?”

“Yes!” the new Doctor exclaimed with such vigour that Jamie was momentarily startled. “Got it in one.”

“God Almighty,” said Jamie, “what happened to you?”

“Oh, nothing yet, nothing yet,” said the Doctor. “Your Doctor will be around here somewhere. No time to waste. Come on!”

He’d taken Jamie by the hand and dragged him away down the corridor – and the next thing he knew they were tucked into a supply cupboard, all squashed up together, the Doctor pressing frantic kisses all up and down his neck.

“Your Doctor,” he said between kisses, “will be fine. I usually am. And even if he isn’t, my presence _clearly_ indicates his continuing existence. Capisce?”

“Not really,” said Jamie, head whirling.

“Trust me,” said the Doctor, an all-too familiar glint in his eye. He tugged Jamie’s shirt aside and attacked his shoulder.

“But –” said Jamie. But his Doctor, and Zoe too. But the clanking metal beasties. But the feral AI that had turned the whole space station into a madhouse. 

“Indulge me.” The Doctor’s hand was drifting down his flank, coming to rest on his thigh. “It’s been ever such a long time.” His hand slid up Jamie’s leg, up under his kilt, and he damn near cooed. “Oh, Jamie. Always so traditional.”

The Doctor’s hand on him felt different, but he still knew the trick to this, of course he did; his fingers twisted just-so, and Jamie moaned aloud, grasping at the Doctor’s velvety back. “Oh, I remember that noise. That’s a _good_ noise,” said the Doctor, breath tickling Jamie’s ear, making him shudder.

He resisted a moment longer, squirming, then decided: hell with it. Hell with everything. He tangled his fingers in the Doctor’s hair – which was so good for trailing fingers through, so long and soft – and kissed him properly, tugging at his lips, slipping his tongue into his mouth.

“You like the same thing you always did, eh?” he said, their lips still touching.

“Mmm. More or less,” said the Doctor breathily.

“Good.” Jamie scrabbled to unfasten the Doctor’s trousers. He heard a _ping_ that was probably a button coming loose, but didn’t pay it any mind. There’d be time to worry about lost buttons later.

The Doctor let out a contented hum that turned to a moan as Jamie tugged him closer, grinding their bodies together, skin on skin. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Oh, you are _perfect_. Never change, Jamie. Oh. _Ohh_.”

Jamie groped helplessly at the Doctor’s sides, at his back, then dropped a hand down between them, holding them together. A second later the Doctor’s hand joined his, twining their fingers together – and that, _that_ was perfect. Jamie let himself forget about all of it, about the metal beasties, about everything outside of their wee bubble. None of it mattered. It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t _his_ Doctor, because it was still his _Doctor_ , and they were still –

He sagged against the Doctor, gasping for breath, dropping his head to the Doctor’s shoulder, shivery, his mind still fogged with pleasure. “Mmm,” said the Doctor. “I’ve missed this.” He nuzzled Jamie’s neck. “Can I kiss you again?”

“You can kiss me as many times as you like,” said Jamie.

*

By the time they blundered – more by blind chance than anything else – into the Alpha control room, it was clear they’d missed a fair bit. The Doctor – Jamie’s Doctor – was there, pouring over a reel of computer read-outs with Zoe and an oddly dressed blonde girl who Jamie thought he had pegged even before she caught sight of the Doctor – the new Doctor – and bounced over.

“Oh, _there_ you are, Doctor,” she said in an atrociously English accent. She looked Jamie up and down. “Who’s this?”

“Ah!” exclaimed the Doctor. “James Robert Mccrimmon, this is Charlotte Elspeth Pollard, Charlotte Elspeth Pollard, James Robert Mccrimmon. I’m sure you’ll get along splendidly. Now, is that the AI matrix output?” He touched a hand to Jamie’s shoulder, nudging him closer to the girl, and bounded away.

“Jamie,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Charley,” she said, beaming at him. “I like your kilt. It’s very, er, Scottish.”

“Oh, Charley,” called the new Doctor. “Be a dear and help Zoe with the next reel?”

“Coming!” Charley called back. She rolled her eyes at Jamie as if to say _typical Doctor, eh_ , and dashed off to join Zoe at the computer banks.

Jamie trailed over to the pair of Doctors, treading carefully around the papers and stacks of circuit board that littered the floor. “– initiate manual override,” his Doctor was saying. “Once we’ve gone over the matrix output, that is. Zoe’s made a start on the calculations.”

“Good old Zoe,” chipped in the other Doctor.

“Quite,” said Jamie’s Doctor. “And we were about to start re-calibration. What have you two been doing?”

“Ah, well,” stuttered the other Doctor.

“I, erm –” mumbled Jamie. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

“That is –”

It was no use beating about the bush. Jamie’s Doctor looked them up and down, taking in their flushed and dishevelled state, and his eyebrows shot upwards in an expression of utmost consternation. “Well, really!”

“Now, now, Doctor –” said the Doctor, hands raised in a placatory gesture.

“Jamie!” said his Doctor, looking truly affronted and perhaps even a little hurt.

“Och, don’t be like that,” said Jamie. “It’s no cheatin’. He’s you! It’s no cheatin’ if he’s you.”

The Doctor looked at Jamie, hands upon his hips, lips twisting in irritation, for he really couldn’t argue with that, much as he might want to. He turned upon himself. “Well, _you_ ought to know better. I rather think we have more important things to be doing!”

“You seem to have it covered,” said the new Doctor sweetly.

Jamie’s Doctor looked about himself, and of course couldn’t but agree that he did. “Well, yes, but – oh, really!”

“Don’t be like that,” said the Doctor. “Just think of it as – an investment in your future happiness.” The Doctor scoffed. “Oh, come. Don’t begrudge me this. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since –”

“Doctor!” called Charley from the other side of the control room.

Both Doctors turned to look. “Yes?” they chorused, then glanced at each other with varying degrees of consternation and, as one, opted to both go. Jamie found himself left alone amidst the mess, and shifted awkwardly, not sure if he should follow. He probably wouldn’t be much help.

“What was all that hissing about?”

Jamie started. He hadn’t noticed Zoe sidling up beside him. “Eh? Oh, erm. I’ve no idea.” He shrugged and grinned apologetically.

“Hmm,” said Zoe.

“What?” said Jamie.

Zoe leaned in closer, vaguely conspiratorial, and muttered, “you have _kiss marks_ all down your neck.”

Jamie clapped a hand to the still-hot skin of his neck, mouth falling open. Zoe snorted out a laugh, and, looking ever so pleased with herself, sauntered away to join the Doctors.


End file.
